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| The pope with some of the sisters on January 4th |
In the Clementine Hall of the Papal Palace on January 4th, Pope Francis addressed a gathering of the general chapter of the union of ‘St Catherine of Sienna’ school missionaries.
Founded in 1924 by Luigia Tincani, the order comprised Dominican tertiaries, mainly college students or teachers and were, according to their current website, ‘intending a precise and sympathetic presence of consecrated persons in state schools and in society.’ Tincani and her companions made their first consecration in the cell of St Dominic at St Sabina’s church in April 1917. The group were aggregated to the order of preachers (Dominicans) and received final Papal approval in 1924.
By 1990 the union of St Catherine of Sienna had founded many schools and colleges, including the ‘Free university for adults and the elderly,’ which operates out of many countries including Pakistan, India, Holland and Poland.
In his speech to delegates of the order last week, the Holy Father said: “Many times in my life I have encountered nuns with a vinegar face, and this is not friendly, this is not something that helps to attract people. Vinegar is ugly, and nuns with a vinegar face, let’s not say!” Pope Francis then continued with the following: “Please, distance yourself from gossip. Gossip kills, gossip poisons. Please, no gossip among you, none. And to ask this of a woman is heroic, but come on, let’s go forward, and no gossip.”
One can only guess at the information which Pope Francis had received in his pre-meeting briefing by his officials, but at the very least he seems to be under the impression that all is not well with the Union of St Catherine of Sienna. This is not the first time that nuns generally have been singled out for severe criticism by the Holy Father and convents have had to get used to a constant stream of negative comment from the papal throne. These sentiments have been magnified by certain bishops and have led, in a few cases, to open rebellion by some individual religious houses.
The mother superior of the Poor Clares in Belorado, Spain (May 2024) said: “From the Throne of Peter we have been receiving contradiction, confusion and doublespeak, ambiguity, lack of clear doctrine, which is all the more necessary in stormy times, to hold the rudder more firmly.” I would venture to suggest, however, that this mother superior, in common with most monastic leaders, is dealing with difficulties which are largely self-imposed. Many of these religious houses are already weakened by their loss of purpose, leading to internal divisions and lack of vocations.
Pope Francis is aware of the universal crisis of vocations amongst the female orders and, to confirm this, we witnessed this exchange during his address on January 4th: “And I see that young nuns are lacking! How many novices do you have in the world?” [Someone answers: “A dozen.”]
The warnings to the nuns against gossip and vinegar faces do not really address the basic crisis in the religious orders, both male and female, which is the wholesale lack of recruitment. Who wants to be a monk or nun these days? Why should a youngster give his or her life to Christ when the very spirituality of the monastic life is being undermined and the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience are habitually sneered at? As congregations are dispersed and monastic property comes under the hammer of the auctioneer, we really do need a reset and must examine the basic principles underlying the religious life.
There is a popular notion, given free voice in progressive Catholic circles, which claims that, as religious orders are disappearing, this in itself is proof that we do not need them. But there was a time in history when monasticism was absolutely essential to the life of the Church. Witness the arrival of the first Carmelite nuns in Notting Hill, London, at the invitation of the then Archbishop of Westminster, Cardinal Bourne, in the mid-19th century. The Cardinal established Carmels in each diocese in England and Wales, seeing this as essential to bringing supernatural life into fledgling Catholic communities, He invited these sisters from France long before he considered setting up schools or seminaries. And what did these nuns do when they set up, not knowing a word of English? They prayed, did penance and begged for food. When they arrived during a rainstorm at their tumble-down house, all they had to eat were a few sandwiches prepared for their journey. Before long at least two of them had died of malnutrition. All these events are described in The Life of Mother Mary of Jesus (1964).
The state of the Catholic Church when the Carmelites arrived in England in 1874 was pretty dire, having come through the ordeal of centuries of persecution. Catholics were still forbidden to enter the professions or the military. The Catholic Faith was preserved by a few scattered families who practised their religion behind their raised drawbridges. This was the age of Charles Dickens and there was a massive divide between rich and poor. The Anglican Church was the bastion of privilege and wealth, so many ordinary people never bothered with any religion at all. A hopeless situation, one would have thought! And yet, from the Carmelites of Notting Hill website we read the following: ‘It was intended, in the ardent spirit of St Teresa of Avila, to be a spiritual powerhouse for the evangelisation of England. The little community began in poverty and obscurity, but by the beginning of the twentieth century it was attracting an amazing number of new vocations, women from all walks of life.’
The Carmelites who arrived in London in 1874 had no internet, mobile phones or printing press and were unable to undertake a nationwide program of evangelisation, even if they wanted to. So how did they manage to be so successful? The answer is that God did it all! The nuns’ faithfulness to their rule was rewarded a thousand times over. This gives us a hint as to the reasons for the current auto-demolition of the monastic orders.
It is also worth considering the growing number of religious orders, particularly in France, who have returned to their roots. One example is the Benedictine monastery at Le Barroux, in Provence, which is burgeoning with vocations. Any visitor to their Sunday Mass cannot but be over-awed by the long and endless procession of young monks at the start of the ceremonies. Even the abbot looks like a film star! These monks have no ‘pastoral outreach’ initiatives and make absolutely no compromise with the outside world. The abbey church is packed full of faithful Catholics on Sundays, and the daily Mass is well attended also. The monks also run a tertiary order for lay people. Other traditional orders around the world also testify to the swelling of their ranks.
But what’s the point, one might ask? Unless these monks and nuns are active in the world and are doing good works then, surely, they’re wasting their time? The evidence points the other way, though: it seems that monks and nuns who set out to ‘do good’ and in doing so neglect the life of poverty, chastity and obedience, risk turning themselves into pious social workers. Before long they find themselves embracing or compromising with the values of the modern world and any new vocations just fall away. Once monks and nuns become wrapped up in the cares of the world, as Pope Francis says, ‘vinegar faces, and gossip’ become an unwelcome ingredient of their conventual life.
Joseph Bevan
January 2025
Joseph Bevan has published his memoirs, Two Families, with Os Justi Press. Available at the publisher’s and also on the various Amazon platforms (e.g., here).
