“I’m discovering it’s acceptable to acknowledge that perhaps this community may not thrive,” said Suzanne Shanley, a co-founder of the Catholic residential Agape community. “Ultimately, it’s in God’s hands, whatever that may entail.”
The Shanleys, who are both active peace advocates and educators, have called this land home since 1987. They initially cleared a densely wooded area of rural New England to develop a sanctuary rooted in nonviolence and sustainability. The name Agape derives from the Greek term signifying selfless, unconditional love.
Brayton, 79, reflected on the community’s inception saying, “I was a child of God, all for Jesus through Gandhi with a smile. That’s where it all began.”
During its prime, Agape attracted countless volunteers and community members to its annual gatherings and work days, which included activities such as planting crops, chopping wood, and preparing the terrain for future seasons. The community is anchored by two sustainable houses, a large garden, and a small hermitage, merging the roles of lay monastery, retreat center, and commune. Most of the meals prepared at Agape—entirely vegan—utilize food cultivated from the land.
The largest building, known as Francis House, features six bedrooms, a chapel, a kitchen, an office, and a cozy wood-burning fireplace. The second structure, Brigid House, is insulated using straw bales and serves as the couple’s home. “This serves as our modest contribution toward addressing challenges like climate change—a little sanctuary here in the Hardwick woods,” Suzanne said.
However, participation in community activities has severely waned since 2020, prompting concerns from the Shanleys about the viability of Agape. “We’re limping along,” Brayton admitted. “We’ve lost three colleges that no longer have programs with us. Overall, volunteerism has declined.”
Previously, local Catholic colleges such as Stonehill College and the College of the Holy Cross routinely sent students to volunteer at Agape through their campus ministries. However, this practice has ceased.
Volunteer retreats to the commune once welcomed up to 20 participants, including campus ministries, WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) volunteers, and rural immersion groups, many of whom would stay for days or weeks. Although long-standing visitors continue to attend the annual interfaith Francis Day celebration, which has historically featured notable speakers, current attendance pales in comparison to earlier years.
Agape’s sustenance hinges on funding from donations and revenue generated through retreat programs. These retreats rely on volunteer support for essential tasks, such as planting and gathering produce, canning foods, and gathering firewood for the winter months. In prior summers, as many as six volunteers may have stayed on-site to assist, but this summer only one individual offered help.
The 1960s and 1970s witnessed a surge of intentional communities throughout America, promoting sustainability, collective living, and personal transformation. Generally, participation was either free or based on a labor exchange, echoing the communities’ anti-materialistic ethos. Timothy Miller, a religious studies scholar at the University of Kansas, notes that many of these communities have struggled with declining memberships. “Communes must draw in new members to survive, and it’s apparent that many young adults interested in communal living tend to prefer establishing new organizations rather than joining existing ones,” he stated. “Agape is not unique in facing these challenges.”
Suzanne admitted that she once envisioned that, by now, Agape would be filled with other peace-minded individuals and homesteaders. “Though it was never explicitly stated as a goal, we always encouraged people to come and join us,” she mentioned. “A lingering thought in my mind is whether this type of community will resonate with younger generations.”
They have begun to look to community members for insight. Jim Robinson, 34, a lecturer at Iona University who focuses on the convergence of theology and ecology, felt a strong calling to Agape after initially meeting the Shanleys at a Harvard Divinity School conference in 2016. “I was moved by the fact that they were genuinely living out the principles I was contemplating,” he shared. “Their Catholicism emphasizes environmental stewardship and resistance to violence.”
Robinson has consistently volunteered at Agape for eight years, serving on the community’s mission council, which helps steer its operations. However, he does not feel a long-term commitment to living there. “I prefer being part of multiple communities,” he explained. “I suspect many others feel similarly.”
Long-time attendees recognize the weight of stepping into the considerable legacy of the Shanleys. “A significant challenge of having strong leadership is the question of succession,” remarked Skip Schiel, an activist and photographer associated with Agape since its inception. “Brayton and Suzanne are truly exceptional individuals.”
Before finding peace in the quiet of rural Massachusetts, the Shanleys lived in Brockton, Massachusetts, in a once-condemned home where they offered sanctuary to those in need. They worked as part-time lecturers on peace and nonviolence in Catholic schools around the state. Over the years, they have clashed with the IRS, refusing to pay taxes as a protest against war, deliberately living below the taxable income threshold of $20,000 to resist military funding. Through connections like that with Mother Teresa, they assisted in relocating a man from death row.
Agape has served as a refuge for war victims and those entangled in the criminal justice system, hosted retreats for Muslim groups post-9/11, pioneered the construction of a vegetable oil-powered vehicle, and built composting toilets. Additionally, in 2016, they participated in the Standing Rock protests against the oil pipeline. To this day, they continue to hold vigils for those who have lost their lives in Palestine since October 7, 2023.
For many years, Agape has maintained relationships with surrounding intentional communities, including the Sirius Community—an eco-village and retreat center in Shutesbury—and Noonday Farm, a Catholic Worker-affiliated organic farm in Winchendon. Sirius offers residents the opportunity to rent homes or participate in internship programs.
“The Shanleys have been crucial mentors to my understanding of peacemaking,” expressed Jeanelle Wheeler, a 28-year-old educator and lifelong Agape participant. Although Wheeler has been visiting since infancy and is on the mission council, she does not plan to live at Agape due to her role as a professor at Montclair State University, located four hours away in New Jersey. However, she remains optimistic about the community’s future. “As young people encounter climate change, conflicts, and social upheaval, I sense a growing desire for spaces like Agape among my peers, accompanied by a spiritual thirst,” Wheeler noted.
For Brayton and Suzanne, the quest for volunteers and “transition people”—those capable of assuming a more active role in the community—persists. “I believe I have honored a vision that captivated me and continues to do so,” Suzanne remarked. “I simply hope for enough physical endurance and strength to witness the emergence of something new.”
