I have only visited a convent once ; it was in the middle-north of England where the friend of a friend was serving. I was fairly young at the time and knew next to nothing of religious life, so I had only a jumble of ideas of what to expect. My first surprise was that they let me into the convent at all ; I had half expected that I would be required to wait outside while my companion went in to chat with her old school-friend. But, in fact, there is a homely and comfortable reception area made for the purpose of entertaining all kinds of visitors ; and we were both made very welcome.
I began to wonder what on earth I could contribute to this meeting of old friends. Are nuns allowed to speak to men? Or even to listen to them? I prepared to make my own vow of silence for the duration but I needn’t have bothered, for the sisters were only too eager to chat ; not, I hasten to add, out of a wish to discover news of the wicked world beyond their walls, but out of simple friendliness mixed (I think) with a charming politeness. They understood my dilemma.
The talk was of many things, but mainly about news of the girls’ mutual acquaintances ; but this broadened by degrees until even I thought of something to say. The nuns spoke mainly about their work, which reminded me that even they had to earn their living. All this was unexceptional. And there was absolutely no talk of religion or vocations or the good life.
Perhaps it was that delightful visit of forty years ago that silently prompted me to buy a DVD which explored further the life of the religious. It concerns the lives of the sister at the Carmelite Monastery of the Holy Trinity in Notting Hill ; in the heart of London. It is called No Greater Love, which reminds us of Jesus’ words that there can be no greater love than to lay down one’s life for a friend. And that is what these girls do ; they devote every minute of their lives to the betterment of the world and its people – their friends.
Of course, a worldly cynic might say that there is no great sacrifice in retreating from the world in order to work and pray. Some might even say that it is abandoning the harsh world so as to lead a comfortable life ; and is it possible to deny that some, at least, have done that?
But when you consider more closely the training that the sisters have been through, it is not easy to be so dismissive ; for their transition to religious life, and then their everyday lives, are far from easy by our standards. I received an insight into this when I watched another film, The Nun’s Story, in which we meet Audrey Hepburn and Peter Finch in leading roles. This film is based on a true story and, as far as I can tell, is pretty much true to form.
It concerns a Belgian girl who comes from a prosperous family and whose father is a leading medical doctor. We follow her from her decision to decline a comfortable life, through her pains at telling her family of her decision, on to her fairly terrifying training, and further to her years in Africa as a nurse. We also see her assigned (to her disappointment) to escort a sick patient back to Belgium by sea ; she has no choice because she is the only nurse who has the necessary medical knowledge.
To her immense disappointment, she was to have no return to Africa and the patients she loved. Being a nun, it seems, is the surest way of learning to cope with personal anguish ; of learning to find happiness through losing one’s self and one’s desires – in the service of a greater good.
The end of the story comes not in the safety of the convent. And it comes as a surprise.