Nun’s quiet life of serenity exposes frenzied world we live in
PERHAPS it should not be surprising that a nun who has been living in an enclosed order for the past 40 years had her finger on the pulse of just how frenzied life has become for the rest of us these days.
Originally from Dublin, but based at the Carmelite Monastery in Tallow, Co Waterford, Sr Bernadette Joseph was taking part in the World Meeting of Families at the RDS in Dublin.
“I like it, but I couldn’t stick it,” she laughed of the outside world, explaining that she enjoys the solitude and silence of life within the monastery.
Among the vast array of stalls at the RDS and amid the hustle and bustle of the crowd, the Carmelite stall stood out as a beacon of enviable tranquillity.
There are a lot of misconceptions about life in an enclosed order, Sr Bernadette believes.
“People think the sisters are on their knees all day,” she scoffed.
Instead, they earn their living doing printing work, she explained, while also spending their time doing manual tasks like gardening and growing vegetables, as well as playing the guitar and listening to music.
Two hours are set aside each day for prayer and contemplation.
“It is a life of deep peace and serenity,” said Sr Bernadette.
By contrast, she is aware that life for most families these days is pretty much the opposite.
“We’ve had three or four generations of frenzy,” she said, observing that people are too busy running around to find any fulfilment in their lives.
Couples are under huge stress paying off large mortgages and sometimes this causes their marriages to break down, she added.
“I see the brokenness,” she said, with some people taking their own lives because of “despair”.
She believes this is because people have lost their faith.
“But you can’t force it,” conceded Sr Bernadette.
On day one of the World Meeting of Families, some 20,000 people from all over the globe flocked to the RDS for a wide-ranging gathering.
There were workshops on matters of ethics and theology.
There was an open-air Mass at the Leinster grounds, ordinarily hallowed for entirely different reasons.
And then there was the quirky retail experience.
On the extreme end of the scale was the stall selling rubber pro-life foetuses.
There were stalls selling Pope Francis mugs and lollipops.
Veritas has already sold out of the €18.50 portable cardboard chairs suitable for toting to the Phoenix Park.
And there were numerous stalls for religious orders, seeking new vocations.
Special edition jovial-faced Pope dolls, at €35 a pop, were being eyed up as souvenirs and with their soft fabric bodies some parents were even buying them for young children.
“We have a lot of lookers,” said Oliver Brady, from Trim, Co Meath.
At Desmond Wisley’s Ecclesiastical Supplies, everything from tasteful pottery holy water vessels to velvet ropes, communion wafers and limited-edition ‘Pope Francis in Ireland’ crystal vases were on display.
Normally an online shop for parishes, this was a ‘networking’ exercise, explained Desmond.
“It’s nice to meet my customers face to face because they usually see me getting out of a van,” he said.
Picking a bottle of communion wine out of his display, Desmond explained that they differ from regular wines in that they are sweeter. They also happen to be 15pc proof.
Not exactly compatible with road safety guidelines is Skoda’s special issue car with intricately
‘I like it, but I couldn’t stick it,’ laughed Sister Bernadette of the outside world
stained glass windows – windscreen and all – in a nod to its sponsorship of the popemobile.
“I was tempted to drive it down the M50,” quipped fourth-generation stainedglass artist Evan Connan.
The last fully trained traditional stained-glass designer in Ireland, based in Crumlin, Evan spent 200 hours on the project, using 1,700 pieces of glass.
“There’s talk of it going to the Ploughing Championships,” he said.
At the open-air Mass was Sr Anne Cahalen, from Dublin, who had a late vocation and will shortly take her final vows in her 50s.
Before joining the French contemplative Order of Adoration and Reparation, on the Falls Road in Belfast, she was a secretary for most of her working life and worked with the homeless.
“I feel more fulfilled and happy in my vocation,” she said simply.