Carmelites gathered to tell their story in a room at the Sisters of Mercy home. L-r: Sister Rose, 79; Sr. Marie Therese, the Mother Prioress, 83; Sister Genevieve, 78; Sister Elias, 81.
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Last March, four Carmelite nuns left their cloister -- where they had lived for 60 years or more -- and moved into a Sisters of Mercy convent to allow the monastery to be renovated. The sisters reflect on their vows and life behind the walls.
Part I: A Life With God
In her teen years, in Catholic school in Philadelphia, Mary Theresa Casey felt she wanted to pursue a religious vocation, but neither teaching nor nursing appealed to her.
When she heard about the Order of the Blessed Virgin of Mount Carmel — a contemplative order devoted to prayer — she says she "felt something stir in me."
She read about the devout members of the order who had helped shape it, including St. Teresa of Avila of Spain and St. Therese of Lisieux, "the Little Flower" of 19th century France.
After hiding a book on the Carmelites "under my pillow," she recalls, she let her desires be known.
"I needed to be close to God," she says.
A decision to become a Carmelite would bring with it personal sacrifices — the rest of her life spent behind monastic walls, much of it in silence, and saying goodbye to family and friends who could only visit from the other side of a metal grate.
Casey embraced the order.
She became Sister Marie Therese — eventually Mother Prioress — and was on her way in 1946 to Mobile’s Carmelite monastery, founded in 1943.
The enclosure, behind high, cement walls in midtown Mobile, is 8 acres of winding paths through cedars and oaks.
There are long, low buildings that serve as dormitories, a chapel, a gazebo, and statues of St. Therese, St. Francis, and others in yards planted with holly and crepe myrtle.
A bedroom, called a cell, is 6 feet by 9 feet with Spartan furnishings — bed, table, chair a cross.
The monastery chapel, open on one side for Mass to the public, has a room behind the altar where the Carmelites worship, sealed away from parishioners.
At first, she admits, she missed her mother and brother. But her new world quickly enveloped her.
Daily she rose early, took Communion, did simple tasks, meditated, prayed. She also joined the other nuns in sewing vestments for the priests.
Except for a period of "recreation" twice a day, they lived in silence.
Prayer requests were often delivered through a revolving shelf called a "turn" that opened on one side to the front of the monastery. When the shelf rotated, it brought the messages inside.
The Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Sept. 11 attack on the World Trade Center — whatever raged beyond, she says, got to them through what they heard from those in need, and those who wrote them, giving alms.
One nun was chosen to gather messages from the turn, and to field telephone calls, too.
The calls came with requests for prayer when there were world tragedies, such as the assassination of President John F. Kennedy and other violent attacks on leaders, and the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II.
But Sister Marie Therese never felt removed from what was most important to her.
"I just felt each day I was living for God," she says. "I wanted to be closer and closer to him. I never got lonely for the outside world."
Born in 1927, she would remain in the Carmelite Monastery for 64 years.
Read Part 2 here
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| Carmelites gathered to tell their story in a room at the Sisters of Mercy home. L-r: Sister Rose, 79; Sr. Marie Therese, the Mother Prioress, 83; Sister Genevieve, 78; Sister Elias, 81. |
from
Part I: A Life With God
In her teen years, in Catholic school in Philadelphia, Mary Theresa Casey felt she wanted to pursue a religious vocation, but neither teaching nor nursing appealed to her.
When she heard about the Order of the Blessed Virgin of Mount Carmel — a contemplative order devoted to prayer — she says she "felt something stir in me."
She read about the devout members of the order who had helped shape it, including St. Teresa of Avila of Spain and St. Therese of Lisieux, "the Little Flower" of 19th century France.
After hiding a book on the Carmelites "under my pillow," she recalls, she let her desires be known.
"I needed to be close to God," she says.
A decision to become a Carmelite would bring with it personal sacrifices — the rest of her life spent behind monastic walls, much of it in silence, and saying goodbye to family and friends who could only visit from the other side of a metal grate.
Casey embraced the order.
She became Sister Marie Therese — eventually Mother Prioress — and was on her way in 1946 to Mobile’s Carmelite monastery, founded in 1943.
The enclosure, behind high, cement walls in midtown Mobile, is 8 acres of winding paths through cedars and oaks.
There are long, low buildings that serve as dormitories, a chapel, a gazebo, and statues of St. Therese, St. Francis, and others in yards planted with holly and crepe myrtle.
A bedroom, called a cell, is 6 feet by 9 feet with Spartan furnishings — bed, table, chair a cross.
The monastery chapel, open on one side for Mass to the public, has a room behind the altar where the Carmelites worship, sealed away from parishioners.
At first, she admits, she missed her mother and brother. But her new world quickly enveloped her.
Daily she rose early, took Communion, did simple tasks, meditated, prayed. She also joined the other nuns in sewing vestments for the priests.
Except for a period of "recreation" twice a day, they lived in silence.
Prayer requests were often delivered through a revolving shelf called a "turn" that opened on one side to the front of the monastery. When the shelf rotated, it brought the messages inside.
The Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Sept. 11 attack on the World Trade Center — whatever raged beyond, she says, got to them through what they heard from those in need, and those who wrote them, giving alms.
One nun was chosen to gather messages from the turn, and to field telephone calls, too.
The calls came with requests for prayer when there were world tragedies, such as the assassination of President John F. Kennedy and other violent attacks on leaders, and the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II.
But Sister Marie Therese never felt removed from what was most important to her.
"I just felt each day I was living for God," she says. "I wanted to be closer and closer to him. I never got lonely for the outside world."
Born in 1927, she would remain in the Carmelite Monastery for 64 years.
Read Part 2 here
In her teen years, in Catholic school in Philadelphia, Mary Theresa Casey felt she wanted to pursue a religious vocation, but neither teaching nor nursing appealed to her.
When she heard about the Order of the Blessed Virgin of Mount Carmel — a contemplative order devoted to prayer — she says she "felt something stir in me."
She read about the devout members of the order who had helped shape it, including St. Teresa of Avila of Spain and St. Therese of Lisieux, "the Little Flower" of 19th century France.
After hiding a book on the Carmelites "under my pillow," she recalls, she let her desires be known.
"I needed to be close to God," she says.
A decision to become a Carmelite would bring with it personal sacrifices — the rest of her life spent behind monastic walls, much of it in silence, and saying goodbye to family and friends who could only visit from the other side of a metal grate.
Casey embraced the order.
She became Sister Marie Therese — eventually Mother Prioress — and was on her way in 1946 to Mobile’s Carmelite monastery, founded in 1943.
The enclosure, behind high, cement walls in midtown Mobile, is 8 acres of winding paths through cedars and oaks.
There are long, low buildings that serve as dormitories, a chapel, a gazebo, and statues of St. Therese, St. Francis, and others in yards planted with holly and crepe myrtle.
A bedroom, called a cell, is 6 feet by 9 feet with Spartan furnishings — bed, table, chair a cross.
The monastery chapel, open on one side for Mass to the public, has a room behind the altar where the Carmelites worship, sealed away from parishioners.
At first, she admits, she missed her mother and brother. But her new world quickly enveloped her.
Daily she rose early, took Communion, did simple tasks, meditated, prayed. She also joined the other nuns in sewing vestments for the priests.
Except for a period of "recreation" twice a day, they lived in silence.
Prayer requests were often delivered through a revolving shelf called a "turn" that opened on one side to the front of the monastery. When the shelf rotated, it brought the messages inside.
The Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Sept. 11 attack on the World Trade Center — whatever raged beyond, she says, got to them through what they heard from those in need, and those who wrote them, giving alms.
One nun was chosen to gather messages from the turn, and to field telephone calls, too.
The calls came with requests for prayer when there were world tragedies, such as the assassination of President John F. Kennedy and other violent attacks on leaders, and the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II.
But Sister Marie Therese never felt removed from what was most important to her.
"I just felt each day I was living for God," she says. "I wanted to be closer and closer to him. I never got lonely for the outside world."
Born in 1927, she would remain in the Carmelite Monastery for 64 years.
Read Part 2 here
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