Walking in Their Shoes: A Day in the Life of the Benedictine Nuns

Story and Photos By Gretchen R. Crowe
HERALD Staff Writer
(From the Issue of 10/19/06)

When I told my friends I was spending a full night and day at the Benedictine Monastery in Bristow, Va., I was flooded with questions: Do they take a vow of silence? Do they have wireless? Are you coming back? A little background: I’m 25, single and live with my two best friends in Tysons Corner, so the questions, in a way, were normal. This article is for them and for others curious about the typical day in the life of a monastic nun.

Thursday — 3:45 p.m.
I’m headed west on I-66, the busy highway mercifully clear of mid-afternoon congestion. The Global Positioning System of my loaner Grand Jeep Cherokee is on, guiding my every turn — and I mean every turn — to St. Benedict Monastery in Bristow. I mute it after I am reprimanded for making a pit stop at McDonald’s.
Thirty-three miles and an hour and a half after leaving the Chancery in Arlington, I turn right off of Linton Hall Road onto “Oak Lane” — lined by Pin Oak trees planted in the late 1920s — and the grounds of the monastery. The three-level, three-wing brick building is hidden behind Linton Hall School and protected by statues of St. Benedict and St. Scholastica. Built in 1901, the monastery currently houses 34 Benedictine nuns. The sisters’ lives are grounded in this building, where they live and where so many of them work. Because the nuns are monastic, their primary focus is, by definition, their community; this is opposed to an apostolic community, where nuns live in a convent and their primary focus is ministry.

4:45 p.m.
I park illegally outside the monastery, wander inside, up a few stairs and into an office, where I am greeted by Sister Mary Ellen Black, the “portress on duty.”
Sister Mary Ellen uses a building-wide intercom system to page Sister Vicki, who at once bounds into the office, arms thrown open for a welcoming hug. Sister Vicki is what she called a “baby nun,” not yet wearing the ring worn by her fully professed sisters because she has one more year of her five-year orientation before she becomes a full-fledged Benedictine nun. She whisks me off in what I soon discover to be her typical fast-paced gait and into a long corridor reminiscent of those of my elementary school. The building, she said, was rebuilt in the 1960s, after the fire marshal told the sisters it would cost a fortune to bring the original structure to code.
The 34 nuns range in age from early 40s to mid-90s. Some rely on canes or walkers and live in a top floor “infirmary” with 24-hour care. Instead of traditional habits, the nuns wear pants, skirts, dresses or jeans — whatever makes sense in light of their individual ministries.
“For us today the rule is simple and appropriate,” Sister Vicki said, adding that the Benedictine sisters wore traditional habits up through Vatican II but were concerned that their clothing might keep the people whom they wanted to serve at a distance.

5:30 p.m.
The bell rings.
This large family of nuns, for a family is what they truly are, lives by a schedule dictated by a bell. Their daily ministry is important, Sister Vicki said, but when the bell rings, signaling community prayer and meal time, both of which the sisters share three times a day, it takes priority over anything else.
Walking into the kitchen with Sister Vicki, we pick a number out of a basket by the door. Once a month the sisters eat at random tables in order to mix with different people. These monthly dinners shuffle the group around and give a different dynamic, Sister Vicki said.
Every Thursday night the nuns eat a simple meal of bread and soup to remember the less fortunate who have little to eat. I fill up on homemade turkey noodle soup and fresh bread, best when popped in the toaster, advises one sister sitting across from me.
Soon after the meal is over, several sisters head to the kitchen to clean up. A schedule on the door lists who has kitchen duty. Some seek the comfort of the chairs in the common room and a surprisingly large TV, purchased by the father of one of the nuns who was tired of watching Redskins games on a tiny screen when he visited.

6:31 p.m.
Unless in communal prayer, the nuns keep silence inside and directly outside of the chapel, located at the front of the monastery. Evening prayer open with the ringing of a small bell. One sister lights a candle, and the group sings verses three and four of “Lord of All Hopefulness,” accompanied by a guitar and keyboard.
They proclaim Psalm responses in antiphon form, with half of the nuns leading, and the second half following. There is a reading, followed by silence, punctuated only by a gentle falling rain. God is in the quiet as much as in Scripture, Sister Vicki said. After a final antiphon the candle is extinguished.
Prayer life is “where we start,” said Sister Cecilia Dwyer, prioress. They gather three times a day for communal prayer. The sisters may come and go as they please, except if their outing is going to cause them to miss prayer or a meal. On those occasions they must get the permission of the prioress.
With community as the focus, Sister Cecilia said they have to constantly tend to relationships to keep the community together. It’s about finding balance, she said. Because many of them work where they live, work can easily take control of their lives. They are challenged with remembering to pray. And, she said, it can be “really hard” to maintain that commitment to prayer. Even for nuns.

6:52 p.m.
I’m in suite seven of the monastery’s guest house. My suite is the largest and most comfortable of all the rooms for visitors, typically used to host families of the nuns. The guest house, with its multiple rooms, communal kitchen and laundry room, is a short walk down a paved road from the monastery.
I’m not the only visitor. A folk singer who is friends with the nuns is in another room. She performed at Jammin’ Java in Vienna last night, with six sisters in the audience to cheer her on.
Lightning flashes outside as I settle in for a cozy night.

Friday — 5:07 a.m.
I blink at my alarm clock and get up. The sky is inky black, the grass saturated from the storm.

5:53 a.m.
The lights of the monastery guide my short walk from the guest house to the main building, where I am scheduled to meet Sister Vicki for morning prayer at 6 a.m. It’s still dark.

6:08 a.m.
Back in the chapel, the background noise of last night’s falling rain has given way to silence. This morning, the sisters sing the Liturgy of the Hours. Sister Cecilia, liturgist and organist, in addition to prioress, provides the accompaniment.
The bell rings, the lector lights the candle and reads. As on the night before, the sisters take turns in the call and response prayer, pausing to bow at appropriate intervals. They sit, breathing in the silence. The early morning light of fall starts to crack through the chapel’s stained-glass windows.
The final prayers are said, the candle is extinguished. Perfect silence is kept until the bell rings signaling breakfast at 6:30.

6:33 a.m.
Scrambled and soft-boiled eggs, muffins, toast, jam and butter fill up a breakfast bar in the center of the dining room. We sit down for another meal together, talking about the day to come.
The sisters live by the Rule of Benedict: to support each other in a mutual search for God and to minister to the local Church. This rule, along with a threefold promise to obedience, stability and fidelity to the monastic way of life, has guided Benedictines for more than 1,500 years.

7:17 a.m.
The sisters observe one hour for private prayer every morning. Some pray in the chapel, their rooms or wherever else they meet God.

7:56 a.m.
I’m scooped up by Sister Vicki, who meets me in the monastery’s entranceway for the short walk across the property to Linton Hall School. We make our way through hallways filled with elementary school artwork and displays celebrating the school’s 85th anniversary to the gym where eighth-graders, overseen by teacher Angela Gill, are arranging chairs for 8:30 a.m. Mass. Seventh-graders are finalizing the liturgical details, and third- and fourth-graders practice music. Students file into the gym for Mass, placing a host into a bowl if they intend to receive Communion. Kindergarteners alternate seats with eighth-graders. Benedictine Sisters Lisbeth Cruz, Joan Ann Hallerman, Patricia Anne Driscoll, Mary Patricia Herrity, Doris Nolte and Miki Planter-Bromell work in various capacities at the school — whether in administration, as a teacher or in the extended day program.

9:25 a.m.
Back at the monastery, Sister Vicki takes me on a walking tour of the interior. In the library we find Sister Charlotte Lee, who has been at the monastery for 10 years, sitting comfortably in a corner in a wingback chair. She is reading a book about leadership in preparation for the April election of a new prioress. The election is held once every four years, and Sister Cecilia is in her fifth (non-consecutive) term. Because many sisters have master’s degrees, the library is filled with graduate studies books on history, liturgy and monastic studies.
Down the hall is “the classroom,” with three computers with hard-wire Internet connection where the sisters can check their e-mail or play solitaire. They would have a wireless connection, but the cinder block walls are too thick. I make a mental note.
The classroom is also home to liturgical supplies. The sisters rotate who prepares daily liturgies. Sunday Mass is always prepared by the official liturgist, Sister Cecilia.
We move outside to the “monastic garden.” Three walls of the monastery — they ran out of money before the fourth was completed — surround this “place of prayer and holy leisure,” Sister Vicki said.
The sisters sleep on the top floor of the monastery in 8 by 10 rooms, which barely fit a bed, desk, bookcase and tiny closet. If one of the sisters wants a chair, she has to sub it in for another piece of furniture. Because many of the sisters pray in their rooms, they “keep silence” where they sleep, Sister Vicki said. “There needs to be space in life for us and God.”
Sister Vicki said the life of American Benedictine nuns is a “very contemplative life that is also a life of ministry.
“We pray and eat and share life together,” she said. “That’s where we meet Christ. That’s why we all come here and that’s the most important thing.”
We walk through the kitchen, which is complete with two walk-in refrigerators, multiple spacious ovens and sinks, a huge pantry and even a dumbwaiter.
A flight down stairs leads us to the “heritage room,” with more than 100 years of history carefully preserved in chalk boxes, spools of thread, sewing machines, host-making tools and old habits.
Down the hall from the heritage room, Sister Mary Leo Wirt is hard at work in the store room making arts and crafts for the Holy Day Holiday sale that takes place two weeks before Thanksgiving.
Another large space nearby is used primarily for retreats for confirmation, RCIA, school faculties or parish groups.

10:50 a.m.
I am on my knees cutting back overgrown plants with garden clippers. Sister Pat Hagarty, wearing a “Flowers are nature’s way of showing beauty” sweatshirt, is bustling around the monastic garden, in and out of a tool shed, putting away tools and winterizing the spacious grounds.
If there’s one thing I learn from my day at the monastery, it’s that working doesn’t get in the way of living a prayerful life. Rather, working enhances it. Pulling weeds was never so prayerful. The falling fountain water hitting the still pond was the only noise in the contemplative setting. Sister Pat’s work in the garden is ministry in nature. A nun for 50 years, Sister Pat has served as the “grounds supervisor” for two. Before that, she worked for 26 years as a dietician in a hospital. She also is in charge of keeping the kitchen pantry stocked. Because of the small size of the monastery, “we all wear many hats,” said Sister Vicki. Each of the Benedictines has her own ministry: Sister Louise Dowgiallo is the director of the pastoral center; Sister Trinidad Montero is in pastoral ministry through All Saints Church in Manassas, and visits the sick and brings Communion to Catholics at Prince William Hospital and a local nursing home; Sister Glenna Smith is the founder and director of the Benedictine Counseling Services.

11:25 a.m.
We’re chugging uphill in a small cart, and Sister Pat has the pedal to the metal. She whizzes me around the property, showing me the “grove,” which will soon be outfitted with Stations of the Cross and benches, part of a “Place of Peace” initiative the sisters have developed to offer the nuns and visitors quiet places for meditation.
Sister Pat points out gardens with lettuce, blueberries, tomatoes, gooseberries; a rock garden; a wildflower garden; and a teaching garden, run by a branch of the Prince William County Extension Office, where the public can come on Tuesday nights to ask gardening questions. Looming in the not-so-far distance is a new condo development, something of which the nuns are seeing more and more.

11:58 a.m.
The bell rings and we hustle inside for midday prayer. This time, the silent prayer is pleasantly enhanced by the distant sound of Linton Hall children playing during recess.

12:37 p.m.
The Benedictine sisters don’t eat meat on Fridays. Lunch was a tuna burger with a side salad, chocolate chip cookie and conversation with elementary school counselors who stopped by for a quick bite in the middle of their day.

1:29 p.m.
Because they have not yet professed their final vows, Sister Vicki and Sister Veronica Joyner are still in “school.” Tucked away in a library filled with novels down a private hallway, the two baby nuns, guided by Sister Doris Nolte, spend an hour and a half each month discussing Scripture with their mentor. On this particular Friday they discuss one of Paul’s epistles. The students identify the Benedictine themes of ora et labora — prayer and work — in Paul’s writing.
Sister Doris is clearly a teacher, and was also a principal for 16 years and a nurse for several more. She worked part time as a nurse in Prince William Hospital before she resumed teaching math full time at Linton Hall. She is also the health care coordinator for the nuns. And she’s in charge of the library. “Many hats,” I remember.
After class, Sister Vicki ducks out to the pharmacy, making use of one of the 15 communal “nunmobiles” — mostly Chevy Cavaliers parked in a large garage at the back of the property.

2:45 p.m.
A cold wind whips through the jacket I have borrowed from Sister Vicki as I walk the grounds with Sister Veronica. One of the two youngest nuns, Sister Veronica was 38 when she arrived in Bristow. She is now 42 and in her last year of formation. Before entering she had a house, a job, a full life.
“I thought I really had command of myself,” Sister Veronica said later as we sat in the library snacking on cookies. But, she said as we leaned over her scrapbook that carefully documented her years of formation in photos and bright colors, she realized that she had a lot more to learn about herself.
Sister Veronica said she found learning to listen, to be interdependent and to ask for everything to be the three most challenging obstacles to switching from secular to religious life.
“(The sisters) bring a lot of awareness through their lived experience of the Gospel,” she said. “God gives us a lifetime to learn your true selves. You have to want to make changes to make yourself better.”

3:29 p.m.
Right on schedule, Sister Veronica leads me out of the library toward a meeting room where I meet the prioress.
“It’s a wonderful privilege to have this office,” Sister Cecilia said, sipping tea in the dining room. “As part of the profession the sisters really hand themselves over to the prioress.”
The prioress determines the sisters’ ministries, and tries to pair their jobs with their interests.
“If they’re not using their gifts, they’re not happy, they’re not productive,” she said.
The sisters’ ministries include, but are not limited to, BARN, a transitional housing program for mothers and their children; BEACON, an adult literacy program; Benedictine counseling services; the Benedictine Pastoral Center; Linton Hall School; and St. Gertrude High School in Richmond.

5 p.m.
I drop by Sister Vicki’s office to say goodbye. After dinner at 5:30 p.m. the nuns will attend evening prayer. They will sit in the stillness and reflect on the goodness of the day. They will go to the common room to relax and watch a movie together. They’ll go upstairs, in silence, and go to bed.
And in the morning, they will get up and do it all over again.

6:30 p.m.
I get back home, and my roommates look relieved to see me. For the next few days, the group of 34 nuns is constantly on my mind. I think about them as they pray, eat, work in the garden. I know that when I am awake late at night, they are fast asleep. And by the time I wake up, they have long ago gathered for morning prayer and breakfast. I know I will always compare the simplicity of their religious life with the fast-paced world of the rest of us, and I’m grateful to have experienced a taste of it.

For more information go to www.osbva.org.

Gretchen R. Crowe can be reached at gcrowe@catholicherald.com.

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