8 Comments

I think being a nun is a beautiful thing -- if I was raised Catholic perhaps I'd have become one. But it's not a calling for everyone. As you write, Carla did not seem to realize what she was getting into (aside from the fact that she also joined a very strange-sounding convent that doesn't sound healthy). Most nuns who join (And remain) know that they are sacrificing a layman's lifestyle to do a life of extreme penance and constant prayer and fasting. It is a beautiful calling, but obviously not for everyone. I think it's beautiful she's now in a place where she's content, and I know God can still use her -- He uses all of us who are submitted to Him no matter what shape our lives take.

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Thank you for a real story of a real person. So much on the internet is "fake"; but this one feels more real and nuanced.

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Such an interested story. I'm interested in exploring Catholic nuns who were scientists. May great aunt became a nun to access higher education in the 1940s, and also left.

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6dEdited

It seems to me that the order of nuns she joined had an immature process for discerning one's vocation. Typically, one has years of prayerful spiritual mentorship and living the lifestyle before making final vows. This group seems to have skipped that and pressured her in an odd way. Furthermore, a truly Catholic vision of joining the convent would involve not a renunciation of her femininity but rather making a gift of her femininity to Jesus, the Bridegroom. It's a mysterious distinction, so again, I think this particular group had poor spiritual formation.

The same goes for her friends' incomplete vision of femaleness as merely hyperbolic sexuality. If a wife's only (perceived) asset is her done-up beauty, she'll come to a sad reckoning in her 40s when she can't compete with younger women.

A favorite essay that comes to mind is Dorothy Sayers' "Are Women Human?" It's difficult to know what the distinctives of being a woman might be if you don't have the foundation of knowing that you are first a human being—with the same dignity as a man.

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Thanks for this perspective. Yes, like I mentioned in the story, the organization she joined isn't an official order of the Catholic Church but still operates under its aegis as a private association of the faithful. Recently, an Austrian bishop banned it from operating in his region, saying he was given misleading information about its activities. That's one of the worrying things about Carla's story—that the Koinonia was able to project an aura of being "official" but actually turned out to be weird and abusive.

I ought to read that essay by Sayers. I enjoy her Lord Peter Wimsey books and essay "Why Work?"

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I think this is a great start to an intriguing story. I like how it highlights the contrasts that exist within society among beliefs that seek to be on one side negating the other. I recently read something about renunciation (no pun intended) in regards to something that you wish to eliminate becomes your obsession, i.e. those who deny God, build this desire to be with God and vice versa. I guess the point being that going to extremes (in your belief system and in Worldly pursuits) can in a way be the easy and niave thing, but the real difficult work is in including the best of the heavenly God and the earthly life - devotion and vocation, piety and femininity.

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I love the way you write…it takes you on the breath of her story! Thank you! <3 Beautifully done!

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I have been a nun in more than one lifetime and a priestess and a monk and a husband (I drowned and felt I had let my family down in that life time,) as well as a wife. My life currently is a good mix of all, as I am a wife who has mostly been a hermit, but who dances down the street! I think the key is not to judge one another’s choices. I think it’s sad when people trash “trad wife” as though everything traditional is the same as the right wing. I equally think its sad when people judge a woman who doesn’t want traditional roles or automatically masculinize her if she doesn’t want to be a plaything that is OVERSEXUALIZED.

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