Incredible Journey: Chapter 9

Still Searching for a Place to Belong.

In my search for community among Catholics, I found myself very strongly attracted to the Benedictine way of life, for two reasons: first, the balanced life they led, one of work and prayer, and second, their chanting of the psalms in the Daily Office. One order in particular followed the ancient tradition, singing the Office in Gregorian chant, which I loved.

I began by visiting a small monastery that was close by. I would visit them on weekends and participate in their life as well as I could, especially singing the psalms. I was not even a Catholic yet, but I wanted to join.

I loved the nuns of the monastery. There were only 5 or 6 nuns, and because of the limitations of the buildings and lack of enclosed spaces, I got to know them all. There was Mother Gertrude, a short tart bundle of energy who grew and dried the herbs for cooking and using in soaps and creams. Mother Lucy cared for the small dairy herd, milking the cows twice a day. She was the Mother Superior. She was gentle and quiet, yet I suspected under that quiet exterior was steel. These were Jersey cows, which was fitting; they were nearly as short as she was.

One of my favorites was Mother Hildegard. She drove the tractor and looked quite at home on it. She had ruddy cheeks and a sunny smile that warmed right through. Mother Quentin had been a music professor in former life, and taught the other nuns about the finer points of chant.

During my many visits, I got to know other people who came regularly for quiet reflection and prayer.  Visitors were encouraged to help with the work and to come for the Divine Office. Then we all sat around the table at the guest house for meals. A Jewish couple loved to come and exchange jokes with Father Rosetti. They were all from the Bronx and sounded like it. Another woman loved to visit for the peace. She had lost one son at age seven and never recovered.

It was now January of 1983. Every January, the Church reads the story of the calling of the disciples, when Jesus walked by them where they were mending their nets on the shores of Lake Galilee. As the Gospel of Mark tells the story, Jesus called them, and they left everything, their boats and even their father, and followed him. I was struck by the immediacy of their response. Duh, with my history? 

I was at the monastery that weekend, and the superior of another order of nuns was there. Her order was focused on medical work. Everybody knew I was interested in religious life, and I had a scientific background.  I was invited to speak to her. 

In the meeting, she asked me about my background and desire for religious life, and then she told me she had an immediate need for someone to go and take care of some elderly nuns in Rome and invited me to serve as a postulant in her order and go to Rome.

I was immediately full of joy. Here was an opportunity to follow Jesus just as the disciples had, to serve in an order where my training could be used, where I could become a doctor and a nun. To crown it all, I would go to Rome to a monastery named after the patron saint of music. Unfortunately, there were many reasons it could not happen.

"But Mother, I am not Catholic yet."

"We can take care of that," she said. "But you have to say yes right away. The need is immediate. If you don't go, they will have to close the monastery there."

"I owe money on a previous debt.” I was still paying off the debt from the cult. “I understand I cannot join an order with any debt remaining."

"You will have to pay that off. Do you have a way to do that?"

"I don't know. I will have to ask my parents."

I rode the bus back to my small apartment and then called my parents. They reluctantly agreed to finish paying my debt for me. It was several thousand dollars.

Suddenly it seemed it was a reality.

As the night wore on, though, I became uncertain and very anxious about this plan. My fear was specifically related to my experience with the cult. I was being asked to drop everything and go, to leave behind my job and responsibilities without even giving notice. This was the boss who had been so kind to me, who had helped me to get an apartment, and then accepted me back when I returned after the cult. I owed her a lot for what she had done for me. I had promised I would not walk away from her again with no notice. I was not sure anymore that this was what I was supposed to do.

I decided that I would ask if I could delay coming to Rome for two weeks. I thought that if the superior was a reasonable person and not like the cult she would say OK.

It was the middle of the night. I decided to wait until early morning to call. But the wait was extremely difficult.

"Mother, I need to ask to come in two weeks."

"That is not possible. It must be now or never."

“Mother, I was in a cult where demands to come join them were always right away. I cannot do it again. Also, I promised my boss I would not quit without notice, as I had before. Can you please reconsider?"

"You must come now or not at all."

"Then I must say no."

When I hung up, I cried bitterly. Had I just said no to a call from Jesus? Was I wrong in my decision? My fear from my experiences with the cult was overwhelming. Was that blocking me from doing what I was supposed to do?

I reached out to the priest who was responsible for my preparation to be Catholic at the coming Easter celebration, which was to be in April.

He met with me and listened to my story, my fear, and my confusion. Then he said, "What she is proposing is against Church law. You are supposed to wait for at least two years after becoming Catholic to join an order. That law is there to prevent impulsive decisions. It gives converts time to settle into what it means to be Catholic before making such a momentous, life-changing decision. You made the right decision."

I thanked him and went home. My heart still ached for the loss of something that seemed so right and fulfilled so many desires. That ache and the fear that I made the wrong decision remained with me for decades.