Chapter 29
February 1830
House of Mercy
Dublin, Ireland
Within days, the entire House was buzzing with the news that the Archbishop wanted us to become nuns. Catherine may have been hesitant, but many of us weren’t. We found a kinship in our shared desire for religious life. At night, Kate and I sneaked into the volunteers’ dormitory to talk with the other women.
“When I was a child I wanted to be a Dominican,” Kate said, “but to become a nun with my aunt would be an honor.”
“Maybe Catherine will chose their constitution to model hers after,” Frances said.
“If you find you still want to be a Dominican later, you can change orders,” I added.
“Really?”
“Yes. It doesn’t happen often, but there is a process. When my sister was in the Presentation convent in Killarney, one of the Sisters left to become a Franciscan.”
“Did you want to join the Presentation Sisters, too?” One of the newer women asked.
“For many years. But I am very at home here.” A warm feeling came over me at the thought. “I’m curious to see what Catherine has to say when we meet tomorrow.”
“As am I,” said Margaret Dunn.
“I just hope we aren’t put under the Carmelite Rule,” Frances added. “Their spirituality is beautiful, but they are so austere. No meat, Grand Silence nearly all day, and half the year they eat only one meal. That is not the life for me.”
“I heard they only wash their bed linens every six months,” Kate said.
A chorus of disgust ripped around our circle.
“If I wanted to live that way, I could have stayed at the workhouse,” Grace said.
“What about you, Grace? Have you thought about becoming a nun? I know you’ve only been Catholic for a few years, but you must love the faith to come to it as an adult.”
Grace looked away. “I don’t think religious life is for me. I … I don’t think they would take me anyway. Life hasn’t been as kind to me as it has to some of you.”
An awkward silence followed, during which I noticed one girl was missing. “Where is Isa?”
The women looked around as though she was present and I simply wasn’t seeing her.
Several shrugged.
“She was with us at dinner,” Cressida said.
“She’s probably in the cellar helping Cook sort the leftovers for the poor. She does enjoy that.”
“I’ll look for her,” Grace volunteered.
My heart went out to her. She didn’t speak much about her past, but I gathered she’d had a rough go of it. Her comments made me wonder exactly what had happened, but it wasn’t my place to ask. I just hoped she wouldn’t let it keep her from seeing the potential of her future.
*****
Isa didn’t appear the next day, and we were all growing worried. Catherine reported her missing, but the police said there was little they could do but keep an eye out.
So, we carried on without her. After supper, Catherine called all eleven of us into the parlor, where she had arranged chairs around one of our long dining tables. At each place sat two beans: one white and one black. Resting in the center in neat piles were several stacks of paper.
As the two original founders of this house, Catherine and I sat at either end, she at the head and I at the foot. The other women chose their seats at random.
Catherine wasted no time repeating the details of her encounter with Father Kelly and the Archbishop. “My dearest friends, I have called you here tonight to discuss the future of our ministry. It comes down to two questions: First, should we form a new religious order or remain a lay ministry? And, if we form an order, on what order will we base our Rule?”
She gave us a moment to reflect on her words before continuing. “As to the first question, should we become a religious order, I ask you to indicate your answer by placing a white bean in this jar—she held up a small ceramic jar with a narrow mouth—for yes or a black bean for no. To keep the voting fair, please hold both beans in one hand and keep the one you didn’t use in that hand. We will pass the jar around again later for your second bean. Are you ready?”
A few of the heads nodded, so she handed the jar to Grace, who was on her right. Grace hesitated, looking at each of us before depositing a bean in the jar. The next two women voted quickly, as did Kate, but Frances was a little more deliberative. The jar came to me and I deposited my white bean before passing it along down the line. The final volunteer to vote was Cressida, who looked at the jar, at her closed fist, and then back at the jar before the clink of her bean sounded. Catherine voted last. I watched her for any indication of her vote, but found none.
She emptied the beans out onto the table before her and sent the jar back around the table to collect the unused beans. Catherine quickly separated the white from the black and announced the totals: eight white and four black. “Being thus voted upon, I hereby announce the creation of the Sisters of Mercy religious order.”
Applause and cheers erupted around the table.
“I want to make one thing clear before we proceed.” Catherine looked us each in the eyes before continuing. “Even if you voted ‘no’ today, you are still welcome here. While most of us will go on to take vows, we will still need lay helpers. And we would still like your thoughts about our constitution.”
Catherine reached out and picked up the first pile of paper.
“Now, our next order of business is to choose a Rule on which to base our own. It will also determine the convent in which we complete our novitiate, as well as direct our way of life until our own Rule is completed. I have copies of each for the orders here in Dublin if you’d like to see them, but there are a few I think we can rule out right away. The Ursulines are a teaching order, as are the Dominicans. While we do teach, and there may be things they do that we wish to incorporate in our final Rule, I think they are too far afield from our work.”
We discussed and eliminated several other orders before finally coming to the Carmelites. “I especially wish to hear your opinions on their Rule. I am afraid I cannot be unbiased here because they have been intertwined in my work from the beginning. They are eager that we should become a branch of their order, but I am not sure if they are whom we wish to emulate. I will save my opinions until the end of our discussion because I do not wish to sway yours.”
We glanced at one another in the ensuing silence, wondering who would speak up first. As far as I knew, Catherine was unaware of our clandestine activities, so had no idea we’d had this conversation already.
Finally, Frances stood. “While we are grateful for everything the Carmelites have done for us, that is no reason to accept their Rule off-handedly. I believe I speak for everyone here when I say that their Rule will be nearly impossible to follow with our type of ministry. What their saints teach has great merit and should be studied by anyone who wishes to have a rich interior life, but their days are built around prayer and contemplation. Yes, we make time for that, but the majority of our time is with others. They spend their days mostly in silence. How are we to continue in work where communication is so important if we have to do it all in writing or using sign language? It isn’t efficient.”
Catherine nodded, taking in Frances’s argument.
“Don’t forget what you said last night about their diet,” Kate added.
Frances shot her a look that had no place among a group of women contemplating religious life.
Catherine giggled. “So, you’ve talked about his before, eh? I’m glad. That means you trust one another, and a bond of unity has formed among you. That will be very important moving forward. What is this about their diet?”
“It is very austere,” I answered. “They abstain from meat and from the Feast of the Holy Cross until Easter they eat only one small meal a day. That may be sufficient when you spend most of your day in prayer, but we need to keep up our energy. We are walking for miles in the city or standing on our feet for long hours teaching or milling among our students. I spend my days trying to keep up with two very active young ladies. Their way of denying themselves and our way of ministry are not healthy or compatible.”
“I agree,” Catherine said. “Their asceticism worries me. I understand wishing to tame your body for the sake of your soul, but not when it affects the work we do for the greater glory of God. We will have our own privations—everyone does—but seeking them out is counterintuitive to our purpose.”
We discussed other aspects of their Rule, including how we might adapt the prayers of the Divine Office for our busy schedules, whereas they comprised the majority of a Carmelite’s day. Catherine also voiced concern that the Carmelite nuns were under the authority of the Carmelite priests, so that meant our order would not be truly free. Knowing Catherine as I did, I would have voted against the Carmelite Rule based on that alone; there was no way she could ever find peace under the thumb of men. By a hand vote we overwhelmingly rejected the Carmelite Rule.
That settled, Catherine picked up the last stack of pages. “That leaves us with the rule of the Presentation order. Many of you are familiar with them and some have even had relatives among them.” Catherine winked at me. “But I don’t want to you think we must adopt their Rule because it is the last one on the table. If we can’t find one suitable, I will go back to Archbishop Murray and we will chart another course.”
One by one, all eyes turned to me. My face flushed at the unwelcome attention.
“What? I am no expert on life in a Presentation convent. I chose to remain here rather than join, remember?”
“Yes, but you know it better than anyone,” Elizabeth reminded me. “What was it that attracted you to them?”
“Well, the first thing was their dedication to poor. I won’t go into why, but I have had tenderness toward them from a young age. In that respect, they are much like us. Their spirituality also attracted me, with its deep devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and an emphasis on justice, especially for families. Plus, I loved the idea of becoming a bride of Christ.”
I looked down at this last statement, embarrassed at my own admission, but when Frances said my name and I looked up, several other women appeared lost in thought about the idea Jesus as spouse as well.
“Did you learn anything from your sister that we should be cautious about?” Frances asked.
I thought back to my visits with Mary, which were generally joyful affairs. “Nothing specific. The usual complaints about adjusting to a new lifestyle, novice mistresses who are harsh on the fledgling nuns, believing they are helping them prepare for the reality of religious life, that sort of thing.”
Mother Aloysius’s hatred for our way of life lay heavy on my heart. She had died several months earlier and I didn’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but I was glad she was Jesus’ problem now. I chose my words carefully. “The Mother Superior there now is very kind, but the previous one—who influenced many of the nuns—held strong views about solemn vows and enclosure making a woman a ‘real nun.’ I fear we would take a fair amount of verbal abuse for insisting on simple vows that would allow us to remain in the world as we are today.”
“Hmmm …” Catherine hummed. “That is a serious concern. However, it would only be for a year. Look at how many years we’ve had insults hurled at us from the public and even from our own parish priests.”
A murmur of agreement rose from our group.
“If you look at their history, the Presentation order began with much the same mission as we have,” Catherine said. “Take away the rule of enclosure—which was only recently added—and you’ll find their founding principles are fairly similar to our intentions.” She passed a copy of the Rule around the table. “The only reason they didn’t adopt the Ursuline Rule was enclosure, the same reason we rejected it.”
Catherine gave each of us time to look over the document, as she had with all the previous Rules we’d seriously considered. While the others examined it, I turned the situation over and over in my mind. Was it really possible that God might have found a way to integrate my two great loves? For so long the only future I had imagined for myself was one in which I wore the black-and-white habit of the Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Then Catherine and the House of Mercy had come along and I had fallen in love all over again with a very different kind of life, one that required me to take part in the world, rather than be sheltered from it. And now, here was the opportunity to train among the order I so loved and then dedicate myself to a life of service like the one I was living now. Thank you, Lord! Now I just had to hope the others agreed.
When everyone had finished reading the rule, Catherine called for a vote. Every single woman raised her hand in favor of this constitution, including Cressida and Grace, who had abstained from many of the prior votes.
Catherine let out a deep sigh of relief. “It appears we have come to a decision. Now there is only one more to make—which of us will spend the next year of our life at St. George’s Hill learning to become a nun.”
“You mean we all won’t go?” Kate asked. The disappointment in her voice and in her frown was so palpable, my heart broke for her.
Catherine regarded her with great compassion. “No, my dear. Some of you will need to stay here to keep the House open and continue our ministry. Besides, no convent would have room for all of us.”
To the wider group, she added, “When he asked for copies of their Rule, Archbishop Murray also inquired about how many women each convent could accept. Keeping that in mind and thinking through who was essential to the operation of the House, I have decided to choose two others.”
Another mummer rippled through the lines of seated women, decidedly less pleased than before.
“I know, I know,” Catherine said, “it is not fair, but it is how it must be. I, of course, must go. But the rest of you are free to do as you will. If you already know religious life is not for you but you wish to continue in your ministry here, that is perfectly acceptable. No one will think less of you. If you wish to remove yourself from consideration for the two remaining places, you are free to go and continue about your normal duties. If you have any doubts whatsoever, I advise you to leave now.”
Grace and Cressida stood first, followed by two of the newer volunteers, and—to my great shock—Kate and Frances. That left six women, including Catherine. At her invitation, we gathered closer to her, taking the seats the others had vacated.
“Before I name the two who will accompany me, please know how proud I am of each of you and how much I love you. My choice is based on practical matters and has nothing to do with your level of piety or your performance in ministry. Please not do not feel bad if I don’t choose you. That simply means your place is here for now. When we return, we will immediately begin training anyone else who wishes to become a Sister of Mercy, so this is not your only opportunity.”
Under the table, the five of us linked hands, though we had not planned to.
“My first choice is Anna Maria.” Catherine looked at me with a love that reflected our years together. “You have been with me from the first and we will be together until the last. Will you join me in this adventure, my friend?”
Fighting back tears, I nodded. “Yes, you know I will.”
We embraced like sisters and I whispered my thanks in her ear. “Don’t thank me, yet,” she said. “We still have to survive this.”
When we had collected ourselves, Catherine turned back to the expectant faces. “My other companion to St. George’s will be Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open and mine nearly did the same; of the women present, she was the last I would have expected Catherine to pick. Elizabeth tried to respond, but nothing came out, she was so taken aback.
Catherine came around the table and hugged her. “You have the perfect temperament for a nun. Anna Maria and I could learn from you. Plus, I believe there is a strong woman in there.” She poked playfully at Elizabeth’s chest. “Religious training will help draw her out.”
“What do you say? Do you wish to join us?” I asked. I couldn’t tell if her reaction was borne out of natural reticence or if she wished Catherine had picked someone else.
Instead of answering my question, she asked, “When do we leave?” sounding like a girl who couldn’t wait to spend the summer with her favorite aunt in some foreign land.
“It will be a few months yet. Early autumn, probably. There are many arrangements to be made, both with the Presentation convent and here. Should you change your mind, please tell me. No one will blame you. I simply need to know to submit another name.”
So, there it was. The Sisters of Mercy would begin with three: Catherine, Elizabeth, and me.