MONTAGUE — The Brotherhood of the Spirit was many different things over its 20-year lifetime.

It was first and foremost a commune, part of the New Age and hippie movements, but it was also the organization that ran several local businesses, including Shea Theater in Turners Falls. It was a state-recognized church, a devoted  group band Spirit in Flesh, a media outlet and a self-sufficient agricultural community with hundreds of “members.”

Not much was constant: The organization moved from Leyden to Warwick to Gill, and even changed its name from the Brotherhood of the Spirit to the Renaissance Community.

But one thing always stayed the same. 

“The love is still going. It’s still there,” said Brian McCue, who hosted a 50th anniversary for commune members at his “castle” in Montague over the weekend. 

The group started by  controversial leader Michael Metelica  in 1968 and was finally dissolved in 1988 left a profound impact on its  members.

While some may disagree about the legacy of the commune or Metelica, who was eventually forced out by other members for his increasingly erratic, controlling behavior, members of the Renaissance Community have a shared worldview and love for one another. Those shared feelings showed this past weekend as the 60-or-so people — from as far as Hawaii and California — gathered to share memories, music, meditation, food and an afternoon’s outing on the Connecticut River.

“It’s like one big family,” said Bruce Geisler, a University of Massachusetts professor and documentary filmmaker whose 2006 film, “Free Spirits,” documents the group’s sometimes-turbulent history.

“You have a shared experience, kind of like when you hear soldiers talking about being in the armed forces — but with less people shooting at you,” Geisler said. “You build those bonds, those shared experiences.”

The members of the commune — whichever name it had while they were members — still share a core of basic spiritual beliefs and practices, according to Debbie Edson, who was once the group’s minister and still lives in Gill, where the commune’s final physical property existed. 

“The meditations were really what the community was about,” Edson said. 

This year, those attending the anniversary took part in a group meditation. It was somewhat unstructured, but brings back the same feelings they felt during group meditations in the ’70s and ’80s.

“It really brings you back,” Edson said. “It brings an inner peace.”

According to McCue, who has hosted several past reunions, the “family” members believe in reincarnation as well. 

This year, McCue said, was a particularly special reunion, because it was the 50th and allowed members to observe each others spiritual growth decades after they once tilled fields together.

“There is something special this year,” McCue said. “It’s seeing our bond. Our bond is shared because we did so much together, but most of all we went through so much together.

The commune’s membership waxed and waned throughout its existence, and its members struggled to keep the group alive. They faced backlash at points from local government officials and inspectors, and sometimes turmoil from within. 

Problems within the group could arise because of the large variety of personalities and backgrounds of its members, McCue said. To combat this, the commune came up with a policy that would force members to interact with other members they did not like.

“If you didn’t like someone, Mike Rapunzel was the leader that would make you hang out with them,” McCue said, using Metelica’s other name, Rapunzel.

“There were two guys, and I really didn’t like either of them. But all week we had to hang out,” McCue said. “One of them is still my best friend.”

Metelica’s leadership could cause some problems within the group, according to teacher, writer and artist Daniel Brown, who spent over a decade with the group. 

Metelica at many points controlled virtually all of the commune members’ fi- nances, and also developed problems with drug addiction — despite the commune’s rules forbidding drug, alcohol and tobacco usage.

Brown said he has talked with former members who have tried to distance themselves from the group, telling them that the commune “was always about love,” despite its flaws.

“We’ve known each other for 50 years,” Brown said. “The community was turbulent, but it was beautiful.”

“The core of it was that we were connected,” he continued. “It’s like a family. Sometimes they drive you crazy, but sometimes they make you just want to hug them.”

According to Brown, commune members believed that cataclysmic changes to Earth were imminent — natural disasters, especially. They were seen as outcasts or “crazy.”

But now, with the increasingly changing climate, those beliefs aren’t as far-fetched as parents of the 1970s might have thought, Brown said. According to Brown, the election of Trump and current social strife are also indicative of troubling times for human beings.

However, the group remains optimistic and — considering the Vietnam War era much worse for humanity than the present day — Brown is hopeful that the group’s message of love for all will one day, “slowly” be prevalent worldwide.

“I think it will get worse before it gets better,” Brown said of current societal divides. “But we’ve seen this before. We’ve had racism, we’ve had whites versus blacks, young versus old. In our generation, we couldn’t even talk to our parents.”

He continued: “The commune though, it ended. It came to an end and we’ve all spread out all around the world. I’ve been a teach for 35 years and have met many people, many good people. Together, we’ve touched thousands of people, not necessarily spreading the word about the commune, but of love.”

Former commune members Bunni Healy and Dale Sluter were impressed with the way the group has become “wiser” collectively, even after many years apart for some. 

“We have learned to take care of ourselves. I take care of myself now, rather than trying to take care of the whole world, and if everyone takes care of themselves, the world will take care of itself,” Healy said. 

Sluter, reflecting on the weekend, was glad that the group members, wherever they may live now, came back to where it all started. 

“Right now is about coming together here, and we’re much wiser now,” Sluter said. “We know that we love each other and we’re here to help each other.”

Reach David McLellan at dmclellan@recorder.com
or 413-772-0261, ext. 268.

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