Sister Cynthia Mary
Sister Helen
Sister Matilda
Q & A - With Sister Cynthia Mary
Q. As a child, you did a fair bit of travelling around. Was that because of your Father’s work? Can you tell us some of the places you lived?
Q. After school, you went to the University of Qld to study medicine. Why did you leave that to enter Carmel?
I was very satisfied with my studies in Med. and life at Duchesne University College. I tried to lead some sort of spiritual life, with daily Mass – on the premises, so no real effort – and some spiritual reading. It was through reading Thomas Merton’s book ‘Elected Silence’ I became convinced that God was calling me to a contemplative life, so I applied to enter the Carmelites, as they were the only contemplatives I knew.
Q. You have always been excited about the changes brought about by Vatican II, and particularly by the Church’s new understanding of law. Can you explain it to us?
Since the Reformation, the Church had become very legalistic and caught in structures, so that the spirit which should have been the animating force in the Church’s life was stifled. The Spirit was always there, but the Spirit’s voice could hardly be heard. Vatican II returned the Church to the scriptural understanding that the New Law written in our hearts is the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:5). So the law is essentially spiritual and the norms which guarantee some order and coherence to our daily living must always be at the service of the spiritual principles which govern our laws. There is an ever-present human tendency to find security in doing rather than following the lead of the Spirit to being and becoming.
Q. During our community periods of quiet prayer each day, an hour morning and evening, you avail of the option to spend that time down at ‘Carith’, the remotest part of our grounds, overlooking the bay. Would you share with us something about your prayer?
I find the whole atmosphere conducive to stillness and an awareness of the presence of God, and I try to remain in that presence of Mystery by repeating the name of Jesus, sometimes with variations, sometimes peacefully, sometimes a cry from the depths of dejection. I never find it helpful to read. I just want to be still or open to stillness: “Be still and know that I am God”. In recent years I have written some poetry of sorts, and most of the inspiration comes from and is filtered through this place of God’s presence in nature.
Q. At present you are studying towards a Bachelor of Theology with the Catholic Correspondence Centre in Sydney. Do you see reading and study as important for living the contemplative life today?
I do, as it broadens a person’s outlook and opens her to all the strands of thinking in the Church, and to some extent, the wider world. While there is no need to be an authority on this, there is need to be exposed to it, to be aware of legitimate diversity and the richness it brings, and to be aware, likewise, of the need for dialogue and tolerance in listening to other traditions and to others in the Church. For me, doing a course such as this is a way to focus one’s reading and is a good discipline.
Q. What would you say to a young person who is serious about his or her faith and realises the importance of prayer for uplifting society?
St. Teresa says that when we are trying to come closer to God, it is very important to have the support of like-minded friends. So I would recommend joining with others for regular ‘lectio divina’ – praying the Word of God together. This will change you so that you become a leaven in society, whether in a quiet way, or whether in a more active way, if you are drawn to that.
Sister Helen's Story
The Truth Will Set You Free
Sister Helen grew up on her family’s huge sheep and cattle property near St. George on the western Downs of Southern Queensland, doing most of her primary schooling by correspondence. After secondary school in Toowoomba Helen did a short stint at hairdressing, but drawn by the lure of the wide open spaces she retruned home to work as a jillaroo with her father. A trip to Europe with her older sister Margaret was to change the direction of her life. In Carmel her culinary skills are greatly appreciated and her artistic talents find various expressions – she is currently learning the art of candle-making. She is also responsible for the orchard and small vegetable garden.
Looking back over my life I can see God’s Spirit leading me. When I drifted away from the practice of my faith, God waited patiently for me to ‘come to my senses’ like the Father in the prodigal son in Luke’s Gospel. I had been away from the Church for about 8 years – from year 9 – and sought my happiness in buying nice clothes, travel, parties and friends etc. While all these were good, they could never give me that inner happiness I was unconsciously seeking.
Inevitably the emptiness, meaninglessness and loneliness of a life lived on a material level struck me one day at about the age of 18 or 19. I noted when I went to parties or were with friends that life was great while they lasted, but when I came home I had to face another day of this inner emptiness and monotony of living. what was the point of it all? I started asking general life questions, which led me to think about a pop group whose music I liked. They were always talking about God in their lives and they always seemed so happy.
I doubted the existence of God, or at least, God was very remote from me. But I reasoned, ‘If God is real, why can’t he lead me to the truth?’ My prayer from that day on was, ‘God, if you are real, and you are up there, please lead me to the truth.’ I had thought that if I went to every religious leader in the world, they would all say that theirs was the true religion, so I could not trust any human person. It had to be God alone.
A year and a half later, while touring inside St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, God answered my prayer. For an instant of a second I had a realisation (my mind was opened to understand) how my Catholic faith was the truth and I knew I was home. From the age of 15 I somehow knew I was going to be a nun even though I did not want to be a nun. I was quite horrified that this thought could even come to my mind as by that age I already did not want anything to do with religion!
Now after being shown the Truth by the grace of the Spirit I wanted to know what God wanted me to do with the life he had given me. I knew there were plenty of other young people on the endless pursuit of happiness in whatever form – if only they could find Jesus their true friend. I thought of the different religious orders and their apostolates, but I was attracted by a life of contemplative prayer, as this is all powerful.
I was confused, though. I had this attraction to give myself to God, but as I was only 21 and had not yet met someone special, how was I to know if God may want me to marry? What if becoming a nun was just a figment of my imagination? (Which I hoped it was!) So I said to the Lord, ‘Wait till I’m 30, Lord, and if I haven’t fallen in love by then, I’ll think about becoming a nun.’
When I came back to my home town, I did meet that special young man, but then, after a year the Lord took him to himself in a freak sporting accident. Some time after this, while thinking over all the above mentioned story, I thought, ‘I am not yet 30, but I have fallen in love, and I promised I would try out religious life if the latter happened. So I said, ‘OK Lord, you win! I’ll give religious life a try.’ I was then surprised by a Peace that entered into me and which stayed with me, and it was this peace which gave me the courage to face any obstacle that came my way to prevent my entering into religious life.
Sister Matilda's Story
A Refugee Welcomed
The plight of refugees and asylum seekers being held indefinitely in detention centres touches the heart of every Carmelite, called to intercede before the Lord for all victims of injustice. For our Hungarian Sister Matilda it resonates with particular insistence.
I was born in Budapest. Eighteen months later in December 1944, just hours before the communists arrived, we crossed Lake Balaton in a leaking boat which Dad managed to paddle with a single oar. We had only two small cases with us as we fled Hungary, and my parents were aware that divine intervention accompanied us.
For five years we moved from place to place in Bavaria. My brother was born there. (Two of our sisters had already died during infancy in those difficult years.) Mum had to punish me so that I’d eat my meals, yet said that in her heart she could not blame me, the food was so awful. It was only years later that I wondered what Mum and Dad ate. I surely received the best available. The severe winters were a great hardship for them.
Our situation was fairly difficult when we began a new life here in Australia and two more girls completed our family. We lived in an adapted garage. One day after school I ran in to Mum telling her that Jesus had been a refugee too! Fortunately I didn’t experience the harsh treatment some other ethnic groups received. Still, small children can be cruel at times. When we finally moved into a proper house, Mum turned to Dad – After 12 years of temporary dwellings she had one heartfelt plea: ‘Now let us never move again.’ Before long I was attending daily Mass at Auchenflower Carmel, just 10 minutes away, never dreaming I would one day enter there.
My desire to help people originally made me want to be a nurse, and I was going to work my way around our wonderful country travelling in a campervan. After all, apart from a cultural heritage, we have just about everything that overseas could offer. However the Lord upset my adventurous plans….. He called me to Carmel.
I had understood by then that people’s needs were more complex then merely physical ones. Through prayer and reflection I realised that Carmel did not thwart my desires to help, but actually fulfilled them. Of myself I could reach out only to a limited number of persons and could not penetrate to the ultimate causes of distress. Bur God could – if I opened myself to the creative Love longing to be allowed into our world to heal and transform.
The difficult years of poverty and loneliness I’d been through turned out to be a blessing, preparing me for the solitude of Carmel where ‘God alone suffices.’ While I don’t limit my prayer intentions to refugees, I can naturally identify with their plight – whether they are on the move, in camps/detention centres, or struggling to build a new future. It hurts me as an Australian to see that they are not welcomed today as generously as our family was over 50 years ago. It’s like an incurable wound, despite the many who do take newcomers to their heart and work for their interests. Yet the truth is that the dividing line between acceptance and rejection does not run through a population, but through my own heart. My personal efforts to be welcoming in my attitudes, thoughts and actions are not unimportant. I may be unaware of the consequences, but we are all linked to each other and affect each other – God’s inclusive love can become operative through us.
As a child I had been thrilled to know Jesus was a refugee, and now in the mystery of our common union in him, I can be in solidarity with today’s refugees when I meet lesser versions of their experiences: disappointment, hurt, poverty, rejection, helplessness, bewilderment, not belonging, vulnerability, indignity…. the list seems endless. I trust that Jesus can multiply my small offerings to nourish and support countless others.
