By Sister Rose Pacatte, FSP.
When I read Simcha Fisher’s article in America Magazine When a Catholic leaves seminary or religious life, I began to weep. I cried for all the young women who had entered my community and left, their choice or the community’s, over my 53 years as a Daughter of St. Paul.
I remembered when I was a postulant (1967) and a novice coming to the refectory (dining room) for breakfast and noticing that someone was missing. Gone without a good-bye, at that time never to be heard of again. It was so confusing that someone who was so much part of my group, or the upcoming groups, or even professed in temporary vows, could be gone. Just like that. If we said anything, the formator would shush us or glare at the person asking. One co-postulant told me later that it was thought if we talked about our missing companion that it might make the rest of us go, too. I was still in our high school aspirancy myself, but that lack of logic just further confused me (we discontinued our high school in 1991.)
Yet as I read through the article, tears flowing at the corner of my eyes, I recalled three times that I was asked to either drive someone to the airport, take another young sister home, or accompany someone in their discernment and then drop them off at her new residence after she decided to leave the community. I was part of the forgotten ones in this process of separation from a community that was no “gentle or conscious uncoupling” so to speak. I was one of the last members of the community a sister leaving might ever see. To me, this was the most heartbreaking thing I was ever asked to do in my years of religious life. It was traumatic for me. No one ever asked how it made me feel to be part of a person’s departure from this very intense and passionate way of life that we call religious life.
I recalled another sister who was often asked to take aspirants, postulants and novices to the airport, spirited out at dawn’s early light before anyone would miss them. It was during grand silence, too, so we were not to speak until after grace at breakfast if we did see suitcases by the elevator. I will call her Sister Mary. Sister Mary was chosen, I think, because of her gentle nature that would have a calming effect on the young woman leaving. I went with Sister Mary once to drive a sister in temporary vows to the airport as she was returning home. I waited in the car (the days when we could do so), but I was able to say good-bye and promise prayers before Sister Mary accompanied her inside the terminal. The hard thing was that I was told by the superior not to talk about the young woman’s departure to anyone.
The next time I was told, not asked, to drive a young sister home from one of our branch houses. Her family lived within driving distance. Sister Anna, an older sister, came along, too. The superior, who was very old school and stern, told Sister Anna and I that we were not even to get out of the car. Just let the sister off in front of her house, let her unload her suitcases, and drive off. I was told not to even talk to her. I was only in temporary vows, too, and had known this young woman since she entered though she was not in my group (or band, as some communities call our formation groups.) As soon as we pulled up in front of her house at about 7am, her family came out. Then Sr Anna surprised me. She hit my arm and said, “Say good-bye.” So, I did. I turned and gave the young woman a hug over the seat. Then Sr. Anna got out of the car, against orders, and accompanied the young woman to the front door, to her family. She stayed and spoke with the family for a bit, then came back to the car. We were both crying. Sr. Anna, one of my favorite nuns ever, told me through her tears, “You don’t need to say anything. Charity comes first.” And I never did until now.
I will not say too much about the third sister because we remain very good friends today. But I know she suffered greatly as she discerned her way from religious life into a serene life “in the world” as we call it. I was the local superior when she was sent to the community for the purpose of discernment, at her request. As she met with a spiritual director, I was the community member she related to the most. It was a difficult separation for many reasons, and we both cried many times, not least of which was the day we went to buy her a new meager wardrobe at the mall and the final day I drove her to her new residential job after she was dispensed from her vows. This was like dying to her and to me, two different ways of dying. I had known her from before she entered and now, these many years later, I was there when she was leaving, following what she believed was God’s will for her. I did not disagree with her discernment, but her leaving was as if she was pulling off her skin to reveal a new identity that was still taking shape. It was so painful. She is one of the bravest people I know, and I love her for her courage, perseverance, and love for ministry that has never wavered.
I shared this blog post with Sister Mary and she commented:
I do regret in hindsight not having more of Sr. Anna’s wisdom of heart. Most of the time I drove very young ones to the airport or bus station. I was sent to be a kind presence and to assure that they made it to their gate safely. Some left singing and some left sorrowing, so as their last contact I had to keep things light and loving. As you say, we are in a better place now. The young ones are already women and the formation program is so much more mature, so we don’t have half the drama anymore. I always pray for those who are wavering even if I don’t know who they might be, and I send them on their way with love and blessings.
In one way I was a willing participant in the departures of these young women from religious life but in another way, I was unwilling because I knew that if I were suffering from a profound sadness, the young woman was probably suffering so much more. I have always tried to do everything asked of me, but some things were too hard and had to change, and thank God, they have.
What did I learn from these experiences? That charity comes first, always.
We do things differently now. If a young woman at any stage of religious life discerns to leave (or is invited to do so by the community), she may share this information with whomever she wishes – and we can stay in touch. She can say good-bye to the community in the dining room or make a more discreet departure – her choice. But the sister or young woman is encouraged to be more transparent about her discernment because the entire community is transitioning with her as she leaves.
Sister Rose Pacatte in August 1967, at the San Diego convent of the Daughters of Saint Paul, the night before flying to Boston to enter the convent.
As we slowly moved from a pre-Vatican Council II way of doing things in our congregation in the U.S. to being, well, normal, we had a provincial who did something wonderful. This was in the later 1980s. I was on our provincial council then. She thought it would be a good idea to send a Christmas card and note to each sister (novice or postulant) for whom we had contact information, and let them know we remembered them, ask how they were doing, and that we continued to pray for them. This resulted in more open communication, visits to the novitiate, reconnecting with old friends, and oftentimes, healing.
I wish there had been Leonie’s Longing all those years ago so young women could receive counseling and referrals and moral support, and I am glad this organization exists now. God willing, I will celebrate my golden jubilee of profession in 2022 (and my 55th of entrance). If you are reading this, know that I remember everyone, and I wish you love, happiness and the peace of Christ. I hope you will forgive any suffering I may have caused or contributed to at a very difficult time of your life. I ask for your prayers.
The thing is, those who become part of our inner world, as we do in religious life, are never gone. We remain sisters in the heart of God – always.
You are loved my co novice!! Thank you for writing this. God willing I will see in in 2022!
I’ve got guest rooms reserved for you and your sisters at the retreat house! Bless you, dear friend of 52 years.
Thank you for this article. I have never given any thought to how affected a religious leaving might be by the decision. I have know 3 SSNDs and 2 seminarians, all who married and raised wonderful Catholic families,, who left but never discussed that experience with any of them.
I spent 10 years as a DSP and received no communication since I left in 1971. In fact the fear expressed of those of us who chose to leave was unbounded! I have lunch every month now with two of my comrades who entered in 1961 when I did and none of use have ever been acknowledged nor shown any care
Sister M Raphael Slawko
Dearest Francine, you left the earth for heaven during the summer of 2021. I will remember you always.
In India, these days, those who leave Religious life, they can relate to those Religious persons through Facebook. Sometimes, they come to the school where they worked.. I always had peoblem how to address them.. Brother or Sir…Sometimes I call him ‘ Brother’
. sometimes I call him ‘sir,’. But always with respect for the decision he made in good faith.. Discernment… We pray for one another…We are all Children of One heavenly Father.
This was a very beautiful, heartfelt post. I was one who left at sundown. My bags packed in the trunk of my car, a goodbye from my novice director with a mix of anger that I felt, and away I went. No goodbyes to my other sisters, I just vanished, it was utterly painful and shaming. I will never forget it. The same God that walked with me into the convent, walked with me out of the convent, and He still walks with me today. I never regret being in religious life. I only wish the leaving was better, and that I could have remained in touch with the community.
Thank you for your kindness
Thank you so much for this, Sr Rose. I am not a nun, but was a teeneager when Vat II was happening and post that many nuns and priests chose to be released from their vows. They were happy people when I knew them, some of them mentors as well (they never pressured me to join). Their sudden disappearance left a void and many questions – we were told nothing and if we asked, we were fobbed of with a ‘none of your business’ response. I did manage to reconnect with one or two in later years, and happily the thread of friendship continued unbroken. But this article of yours resonated so very much. Thank you again. God Bless.
Thanks so much Rosie (my nickname for Sr. Rose) for your beautiful reflections. I, too, remember the mysterious vanishing act that happened to so many. I was still a postulant when a member of our group left and in my typical NY fashion, I asked loudly at breakfast, “Hey, where is Sister X?” Immediately, one of the other postulants said with a horrified look, “We don’t ask questions like that!” I thought to myself, “questions like what?”
It is so nice now that our “alumni” come to visit – often with their spouses and children. These are women whom the Lord loves and blesses.
I remember you with love. You were always so real ! I wish we could feel comfortable being in contact. Three of us left from my group on the same day. One month before final vows and none of us knew about the others. We have been in contact with some but really wish we had a contact point for the others. They were our families for many years.
What a beautiful, thoughtful, kind and heartfelt reflection. Thank you for your vocation, and for your charitable heart. You are my hero❤️🙏
Thank you so very much for writing this. I’ve struggled very much this weekend with missing my former community…I left a little over three years ago. One of my dearest friends from the community made her Final Profession on the 15th and I miss her and the community so painfully much right now. I have very little contact with any of the Sisters as they are not strongly encouraged to keep in touch with those who have left. It pains me so much that most of the Sisters don’t understand why I left and don’t know how much I miss them and the times we shared together for almost 8 years. Reading this article gives me hope that perhaps they miss me too and remember me from time to time. Thank you so much for sharing this.
Oh my goodness. The sister ( now ten years professed) that i entered with, has ZERO idea of why i left it the trauma i endured. In fact, when she was allowed to call me in her profession day, her first words were, “I’m still mad at you.” Crushed. And another trauma 10 years after leaving. So very sad that they still practice silence over those who leave.
Thank you for this piece
Thank you for this Sr Rose… I’m glad to know that some communities aren’t continuing the practice that my former community did (and as I understand… still does) I found it to be emotionally damaging and made me feel like a disease that needed to be expelled for fear of contaminating the others with my departure. (I had been in the community for 8 years) It was also the practice to require that the one who departed have no contact for at least a year with any Sister apparently for her own good. It is such a cruel practice and I hope that superiors who read your article consider revising their “send-off” to something more natural and charitable and kind.
They will always remember you and some day you will be in contact again. God bless you. Let us pray for one another
I left at 4 am in the morning I was not allowed to say good bye or keep in touch with the sisters. The people at the parish I worked at as a sister were told by the superior that I left to take care of my sick dad. This was not true. I left because I had asked to leave.
Thanks for sharing this moving experience, Rose. I entered later (and later in life), so the practice you describe had already ended. I have heard similar stories from my sisters, but rarely with such sensitivity.
Having been in vocation and formation ministry, it’s clear that these mixed feelings are still real. And I’m glad that we can be “real” about them.
What journey we are on!
Dear Francine,
You still are missed, and hopefully if I live long enough will get to see you in
2022.
Sr Mary Assumpta
Three of us in our group preparing for final vows left on the same day and did not know until a few years later.
At meditation our Provincial Superior would tell us how very unhappy anyone was who had left. She said she was always getting letters of those who had left and regretted it. We were also told that once we made vows if we left we would not be saved! No pressure…
Thank you for your words. They’re loving and seem genuinely expressed.
While I left as a postulant in the “modern era” where I was allowed and expected to say goodbye (whichever way I wanted), some things have not changed. It is extremely painful to see that the ones who were your sisters for some time, suddenly disconnect. One day they say they consider you their sister and the other, they no longer behave as such. The idea expressed often times with goodbyes is to stay in touch. Sadly, staying in touch, in my experience, has relied solely in the woman that left. While goodbyes are difficult, those of us who left need the support we had while inside the walls of the convent. Suddenly, we have no one. The grief is not acknowledged by “the world” and church we go back to, creating a bigger trauma. It would be nice if, like your provincial thought of and did, communities stayed in touch, putting effort in reaching out to those who left. For some women it might be something they do not want, assuming they ended in not so good terms, but for most, knowing they still have a community of caring people thinking of them might be a significant element in the process of healing. Religious communities need to continue to mature both in their formation programs (no longer big 18 y/o bands of girls) and in their compassion to those who leave convent. Pray that associations of religious communities come together to address this issue.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful story and experience. Recently at my Parish our Pastor left and I had no idea why. I was heartbroken as he had taught me so much will his homilies and all his teachings. It was at the beginning of covid and he sent an e-mail to all that he had decided to leave the ministry. A number of weeks ago I saw a picture online with him getting married to a man. I cried like I feel God cried for my Pastor. We celebrated so many sacraments and he had even celebrated mass a couple of days before we received his e-mail. God tells us to love everyone and I do but just am having a hard time with the pastor he was and the person he is now. I am just confused. I know it is all in God’s hand and I pray the Pastor is blessed by God.
Thank you for sharing this…I left a community recently, and I miss my former community so much. I never imagined I would be asked to leave as it came out of nowhere, and the way I was treated was completely shocking to me. I never expected it from the Mother Superior. What made it even worse is I later learned from another who left a month before me that Mother was aware of the abuse by my novice director and instead of doing something about it, she just got rid of us. My heart still feels called to religious life, but I am so incredibly hurt from my past experience, and I am afraid to try again.