Behind walls of stone, prayer and work rise in praise of the Lord

"It's God's grace," said Sister Therese Marie of Jesus Crucified, one of 12 cloistered women religious who make their home at the monastery. "God keeps us going. If we've been here 75 years, it's because God has graced our community."

Other than that simple comment, however, their anniversary year is much like any other for the sisters. They claim that "we strive for sameness" and that the only real change since the time of their foundress, St. Teresa of Avila, has been the progression of new faces as older Carmelites pass on and other members join. In fact, the only celebration planned for the monastery's jubilee is a special Mass for the Third Order laypersons who follow the Carmelite rule of life.

Out of sight

The sisters laugh about how frequently their lifestyle is misunderstood. Once in a while, explained Sister Elia of the Trinity, a catechist will bring her class to visit the monastery, "thinking it would do them good if they were exposed to us. They come in long-faced, almost trembling. Invariably, they leave smiling. They're surprised we're happy!"

Still, the monastery is respected by outsiders. In a neighborhood beaten down by poverty, its grey stone remains unmarred, its statues unmolested.

"People don't bother us," said Sister Therese. "They don't try to break in; our walls aren't covered with graffiti. It reflects that there's a certain level of respect."

Wakeup call

Morning prayer, reflection on Scripture, private "mental prayer" and Mass follow before the community eats a breakfast of oatmeal. The sisters like to joke that having to eat oatmeal every day astounds outsiders more than any other aspect of their lives.

A portion of each morning is spent in manual labor. While the monastery subsists on donations, the Carmelites are also required to work to help provide for themselves. In addition to the needlework and hand-lettered cards sold in the tiny monastery gift shop and the altar bread they distribute to local parishes, the sisters do all the maintenance for their building and its grounds.

A typical day might find one working in the garden, another mowing the lawn. The sisters are also assigned jobs ranging from cook to "cotton vesterian" (the person in charge of towels).

Solitude

"A contemplative vocation comes from within. It's a vocation to solitude," observed Mother John of the Cross, prioress of the monastery.

Another period of prayer is observed before a simple lunch and "recreation," a time for the sisters to work on crafts, walk in the garden and break the silence that permeates their lives. Afterward, they adjourn to their cells for a "midday siesta" or 45 minutes of silent free time.

Prayer bells

Bells ring whenever it is time for the sisters to gather in the monastery's small side chapel for prayer, sitting in rows along the walls. The soprano monotone that echoes in English or Latin in the warm air seems of another age.

From September through May, the Carmelites fast, so supper consists of soup, an egg or some cheese. The sisters then have a final period of prayer and some free time in their cells before their 9:30 bedtime.

Simple lives

"It's hard for people to understand," remarked Mother John. "You have to have simplicity. You can't have a sense of new impressions every day."

At a time when many religious communities worry about declining numbers of members, the Carmelites believe their community is just right. According to Mother John, the maximum number of sisters allowed at the monastery would be 21, so a dozen are considered "a good number." At the moment, the community members range in age from 36 to 83.

"Second-career Carmelites" are discouraged. The sisters believe that to adapt to their structured lifestyle, one must start young. No one over 35 is accepted into their community, and even those who enter don't take final vows for six years.

Vocations

"When you have the grace of a vocation, you're willing to accept whatever the community does," Sister Therese shrugged. "It's a step in the dark. Out of love for Him, you make it."

Sister John recommended the biography of St. Teresa of Liseux, "the Little Flower," as a good description of cloistered life.

Who are they?

"That's exactly how St. Teresa of Avila dressed centuries ago," said a lay "extern" who makes contact for the sisters with the outside world.

For Sister Therese, the answer is simpler: "We identify ourselves with our Lord Jesus, who is God and who became a simple, humble, poor man. We identify with His hiddenness."

However, Mother John added, "Nobody in our house has ever lost their individuality." Living together in simplicity, the sisters said with a laugh, they become more their "true selves."

"If you want to escape, don't come here!" declared Sister Therese.

Facing change

"The mayor's mother comes to Mass every day in our chapel," said Mother John serenely. "She's on our side....So then the mayor calls us up."

So far, the sisters do not believe they will have to relocate. The new owners of the building next door have assured them that windows in the complex can be blacked out and other precautions taken to accommodate their rules. "We're told they may be very favorable neighbors," Mother John said.

Moving would be difficult, since the sisters require a building with many rooms so their work can continue in solitude. But if they must find a new home after 35 years in their present building and 75 in the Diocese, the community believes that is also in God's hands.

"If we need to move, the Lord will open a way for us," said Sister Therese.

Work to do

"Each order in the Church has its distinctive work. Ours is prayer," said Mother John. "We're here to pray for all of the Diocese. We see ourselves as very much a part of the local Church. Whether we're known by anybody doesn't matter. It means a lot to us to have a place in the Diocese."

(Write the Discalced Carmelite Monastery at 428 Duane Ave., Schenectady, NY 12304-2691.)

(09-24-98) [[In-content Ad]]