Chatting with a friend recently, I commented that some days are so busy it’s tempting to wish I were living in a cloistered convent, where everything is ordered and prayer time is a priority. My wise friend responded, “You know, even in convents, things are not always peaceful, nor do they always go according to plan.”
Yes, human nature rears its ugly head even among barefooted silent nuns. Whether we are living out our vocations as laypeople or religious, no one is immune to weakness and sin. This is why, even if most of us are following paths to holiness outside of convent and monastery walls, the Church gives us so many religious saints to help light the way. Two of these have feast days coming up in October – Sts. Therese the Little Flower (Oct. 1) and Teresa of Avila (Oct. 15). Both are doctors of the Church, and they pack hefty spiritual punches but in different ways.
What can two Carmelite nuns who lived centuries ago teach us about what it means to be a lay Catholic in 2019? Let me start by giving you a concrete modern example of how a cloistered nun can impact a busy mom.
Last year, a good friend celebrated the tenth anniversary of her final vows as a discalced Carmelite in Buffalo, NY. Interestingly, her birth name was Teresa, but she is now known as Sister Agnes Marie of the Eternal High Priest. If you were to visit the convent she lives in, you would see women who look very much like the above-mentioned saints. Not a lot has changed in cloistered discalced Carmelite convents in 500 years.
Sister Agnes Marie and I have exchanged some letters over the years, and on special occasions I send her and the other sisters homemade fudge because, well, even a cloistered nun can have a treat now and then. In her latest letter, she asked me to pray for her. I was a little taken aback. She alluded to some struggles she was having but said she was happy to offer it up for the good of the Church in these difficult times. I realized that our vocations, though markedly different as a cloistered religious and a wife and mother – one out of the world and one in the thick of it – rely on each other.
I cringe to think where the world and the Church would be if it were not for the frequent prayer of nuns and monks throughout the world. If all Catholics joined cloistered orders, we would become irrelevant in the world because we would be invisible to it. The role of the cloister is so important, but it is not for everyone. Most of us are called to be in the world, to be Christ’s hands, feet, and voice to all those who do not yet know him. Some of us are called to marry and raise children and somehow make our families witnesses to God’s love. We are called to evangelize visibly.
It is in reading about the lives of saints like St. Therese the Little Flower that we can learn some practical tips that help us live out our vocations interiorly and in the world. My favourite story from the life of St. Therese is when, shortly after she joined the cloister, she found constant irritation from another sister whose mere presence was a source of frustration. St. Therese’s solution to this problem was to seek out, with joy, this other nun, instead of avoiding her. The young saint went out of her way to perform acts of kindness and service to the offending sister, who eventually noticed all the attention and wondered why she was so deserving. St. Therese answered, “Ah, it was Jesus hidden in the depths of her soul who attracted me, Jesus who makes the bitterest things sweet!”
I love that example from the life of St. Therese . Her common struggles make cloistered nuns so real, so human. This is why she is a doctor of the Church, because her spirituality is so relatable. Her “little way” of doing what she could to serve Jesus through serving others is profound in its simplicity, and it works just as well in a cloister as it does for busy family homes. Try telling this St. Thérèse story to your kids the next time they are complaining about each other’s annoying habits. They may not always seek out their offending sibling and do something kind for them, but at least they will usually stop complaining. And that’s worth something.
St. Teresa of Avila was a master of mental prayer and convent reform. She singlehandedly founded the discalced Carmelites in 1562, when she discovered that Carmelite convents of her time had become lax havens for rich women. While “discalced” means the nuns went barefooted or wore simple sandals, St. Teresa strove to live out a life of prayer and asceticism that was rooted in love, rather than constant penance. I’m pretty sure she would have approved of the occasional box of fudge, as she was once chastised for having a hearty diet and her response was that there is a time for feasting and a time for fasting. “Lord, protect me from gloomy saints,” she is quoted as saying.
Undoubtedly, the struggle for holiness is real – no matter where we are living out our vocation. The T(h)eresas in our lives are there to remind us that no one’s vocational journey is perfect, but that we are all called to pray where we are. We can deal with our daily annoyances, our chores, our fasting, and our feasting through entrusting our vocation to the will of God. We can pray for ourselves and for each other, no matter on what side of the cloister wall we live.
I think often of my friend in the convent. Sometimes I think of her idealistically, praying away the hours of the day in contrast to my busy to-do list. Yet I know she struggles too. She must work hard to nurture her vocation, and she needs my prayerful support, as I need hers.
If your family is not already exposed to some holy sisters and/or brothers, try to seek out some with whom you can cultivate a relationship and get a better sense of how we can help each other on our paths to holiness. And if you haven’t already, do yourself a favour and get to know at least one of the St. T(h)eresas because everyone can use a Carmelite friend.
Lazzuri writes from her home in Nova Scotia, where she lives with her husband, six children, and her mom. She can be reached at [email protected]