Abbey-Roads2

The Enclosure of Nuns. 

The above photo is a Visitation Monastery speakroom from the 1960’s.  Since the Second Vatican Council, several monasteries have taken down their enclosure grilles, while not a few have ceased to observe strict enclosure or wear traditional habits.  Although there remain many monasteries that continue to do so; one of these is the Discalced Carmelite Monastery of Our Lady of Divine Providence, at Lake Elmo,  Minnesota.

Since the Council, many of the cloistered orders that retain grilles, have modified them somewhat, while they remain more a decorative symbol of cloister, than a “protecting” fortification.  The Council of Trent had imposed severe reforms concerning woman religious, requiring strict norms of enclosure.  Grilles within most monasteries had to be double, and the openings small enough to prevent a woman’s hand extending through.  In addition, the nun had to be accompanied by another nun when meeting outsiders, except in confession, and she had to wear an enclosure veil covering her face, unless the grille itself was curtained.

Feminists like to cite the regulations imposed by the Council of Trent as an example of the patriarchal supression of women, although grilles and walls of separation have always been intended to foster the contemplative life.  (It should be noted that at the time, woman were considered the weaker sex, not only requiring protection from outsiders, but, as others have suggested, to prevent them from exercising their seductive, feminine wiles over men.)   Nevertheless, these barriers were decidedly practical fortifications for the protection and safety of the nuns.  Interestingly enough, the decrees and strictures of Tridentine Papal Enclosure eventually led to the formation of more “active” religious orders of women, known as semi-cloistered “sisters” - not “nuns” in the strict monastic sense.

Anyway - that’s about all I know about monastic grilles and veils.  If you have ever lived in a cloistered monastery, it is not at all as mysterious or exotic as it appears to outsiders.

For those desiring a deeper understanding of the true meaning of cloistered life, you may want to read Verbi Sponsa, the Apostolic Instruction on the Contemplative Life and the Enclosure of Nuns. 

Carmel.

Today I was invited to Carmel for the Siver Jubilee of one of the nuns.   Guests may visit with Sister in the speakroom of the monastery during the time permitted for the reception.  Such events are limited to the day of a nun’s clothing and profession, only to be repeated on special occasions, such as a Jubilee - meaning the anniversary of vows.

Prior to entering monastic life, I was permitted to visit with the entire Community once or twice, and I have met with the Prioress several times in the speakroom over the years.  I prefer not to do so however.  I like it that Carmel is strictly enclosed and I don’t like to “get to know” the nuns in this way.  I respect the nun’s solitude, and even though I am invited to Jubilees and professions, I always decline the invitation.  So many other people thrill to meet with the nuns anyway, and the speakroom gets crowded, that it all becomes a distraction.

Whenever I met with the nuns, I never knew what to say anyway.  One Prioress, who has since left, often sent for me - I never liked that.  (My friend David enjoyed it more than I did.)  Successive Prioresses were much more disciplined, and I prefer that.  The hidden aspect of a Carmelite’s life is what I find so edifying.  Their anonymity, silence, and austerity of life, inspires my prayer much more than meeting or speaking with them.

“I am a pilgrim on the earth” - Ps 119

I used to spend hours and days at the Monastery, before the Hermits came along.  (Near the Monastery is a community of male Carmelite hermits, who also act as chaplains to the nuns.)  Locally, with the increase of Secular Carmelite vocations, the solitude of the extern Chapel is somewhat diminished, so I rarely go to the Monastery these days.  I miss those days when I was there, all alone - with the nuns on the other side of the grille. 

St. John of the Cross writes about specific places of prayer and how sometimes God detaches the soul from the spiritual delight the soul once used to find in these locations:

“There are different kinds of places, I find, by which God usually moves the will.  [One] kind of place in which God moves the will to devotion is more particular.  It includes those localities, whether wildernesses or not, in which God usually grants some very delightful spiritual favors to particular individuals.  He so grants His favor that the recipient will have a more natural inclination toward that place, and will sometimes experience immense desires and longings to return there.  But when he returns he discovers that the place is not to him what it was before, because these favors do not lie within his power.  God bestows these graces when and how He wills, without being bound to place, or time, or to the free will of the recipient.” - The Ascent, Bk III: 42, 3

That is not to say I never visit, but now I only do so “secretly”.  I invite you to pray with me for Sr. Ann of the Immaculate Conception, OCD, on her feat day and Jubilee.

(Photo: “Carmelite Nuns” - Courtesy of Hallowed Ground.)